


wading in the undertow

by a_gently_faded_rainbow



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff and Crack, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, absolutely nothing makes sense and i am bad at addressing the myriad plot points i bring up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:41:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24933202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_gently_faded_rainbow/pseuds/a_gently_faded_rainbow
Summary: “Jon, are you humming The Beatles?”“Here Comes The Sun, Martin, do be accurate.”“It’s like we’re still at work after all!”Uhhhhh it’s a crack fic where no one dies and the og Archives gang gets together to murder Elias. Eventually. I wouldn’t call this fic good, but it is soft and fluffy and dialogue heavy :)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Non-con warning for Annabelle forcing Jon to masturbate and Peter forcing oral sex on Martin as a way to get out of the Lonely. Probably I’ll write JonMartin smut later in a way that respects Jon’s a sexuality and makes him comfy. This will be a series! Things will be good. I’m open to comments/suggestions/whatever people want to see. I’m aware this is not actually good so uh,,,don’t comment on that. It’s literally to soothe the season 5 pain. K bye love y’all.

“You can save him, Martin. You know you can.” 

“I won’t. I won’t pull him into this.” 

“They’re hurting him. You really want that?” 

“You know I don’t. But there’s another way. There has to be. Tim will—“

“Tim? You really think Tim would risk himself for Jon?” 

“Peter, please.” 

“Is it really so bad with me, Martin?”

“No! No that’s not it. I just don’t want him to feel like this. It wouldn’t be good for him.” 

“He wouldn’t hesitate if the roles were reversed. Perfect hero Jon? He’d rush in to save you, even if it meant a little pain.” 

“I’m not Jon!” 

“No need to get upset Martin. The longer we stand around arguing, the more time they have to hurt him. You may not like it, but this is what you have to do.” 

“Fuck!”

“Mm. Are you ready?” 

“No.” 

Peter cocks an eyebrow. 

“Yes.”

The feeling of entering The Lonely is almost worse than The Lonely itself. The cold tendrils wrapping around his heart, the loss of the faint feeling of human connection that’s always there. He should be used to it. He doubts he ever will be. 

He follows Peter’s lead. He knows the plan is simple. Peter brings them into The Lonely, Martin eases Jon into it with them, they wait there until Annabelle loses her control over Jon, and return to the Institute. He also knows that it’s not that simple. Peter has an ulterior motive. He just doesn’t know what it is yet. The thought of Annabelle hurting Jon, forcing him to do things-that’s enough to make him go along with it. 

The gun Peter gave him shakes in his hands as he steps out of The Lonely and into the harsh fluorescent lighting of a warehouse. The sight that meets him is most frightening in that it excites him a little. Jon’s sitting with one hand bound behind him and the other on his dick. His face is contorted, though Martin can’t tell if it’s pain or pleasure or some horrible combination. Annabelle sits facing him, her back to Martin. Her voice is laced with amusement. 

“Very good, Jon. You’d almost think you enjoyed this. Do you like it Jon? Like me watching you, telling you what to do?

“Please. Please stop. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Stop? Why, Jon, you’re the only one doing anything here, as far as I can tell.” 

Martin shoots her. It’s loud, too loud. He’s kneeling by Jon in an instant, untying the ropes. His hands are shaking so badly that it’s ineffective, Jon is softly sobbing above him, and he can feel the world blurring into nothing. His breathing is too fast and he’s useless, useless like he’s always been. He can hear his mother in the background chiding him. Can’t take care of yourself, can’t take care of anyone else. Just like your father. 

“—Martin! Martin, it’s alright. it’s alright. Peter, he, we’re—”

Peter interrupts Jon. “We’re in The Lonely Martin. Compose yourself. I expected better of you after we spent so long training together.” 

“Don’t. Don’t speak to him like that.”

“You speak to him more kindly, Archivist?” 

Jon’s free hand cups Martin’s cheek, wipes away the tears there. It’d be sweeter if Martin couldn’t smell the faint trace of precome there, Annabelle’s handiwork not even washed away before Martin fucked up. It still snaps him out of it enough to stand and finish untying Jon. The loss of contact makes The Lonely’s sting fresher, and he can tell Jon’s really feeling it now. His intake of breath is sharp. 

“Take us to the Institute. Now, Peter.” 

“I would, Martin, I really would, but I’m concerned you can’t follow orders. See, you weren’t supposed to kill the Avatar. So here’s what’s going to happen now. I’m going to leave the two of you here until you can get yourself out, and I’m going to go have a nice visit with Elias. I know you can do this. I’ll see you boys soon.” 

“No! No, Peter you can’t, please.” 

He’s already gone. Martin feels the panic edging back in. 

“Martin? May I come over there?” 

He can’t form the words, can’t begin to process the space between he and Jon, growing ever bigger as The Lonely takes effect. He nods, and Jon is i’m front of him in an instant. 

“Breathe with me. That’s it, there you go. It’s alright Martin.” 

“I’m sorry. Jon I’m sorry I got us into this. I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking, I wasn’t, please just do whatever you’re going to do Jon I’m sorry.” 

“Martin what do you think I’m going to do?”

“I think you’re going to yell at me or hit me or hurt me or do whatever else I deserve and I hurt you like I hurt everyone I love.” The dull ache in his skull fades as soon as he’s done. 

“God, Martin, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to yell at you. That’s not right either. You...love me?”

“I—the compulsion.”

“Right. Er, sorry.” 

“Yes. I do love you. Idiot.” 

“I’m not overly experienced but I don’t think you’re supposed to call people you love idiots.” 

“Idiot.” 

Jon’s smile is like the moon on a cloudy night, soft and subtle and beautiful. 

“Are we going to talk about what happened with Annabelle?”

“I’d prefer not to. I’d take tea, if you have any.” 

“Hmmm. Let me look for the eldritch hellscape’s kitchen, back in a moment!”

“Christ, Martin, we’re really fucked now.” Jon’s laughing as he says it, and Martin knows he’s not in trouble. 

“I think Peter’s right that I can get us out of this. I’ve seen him do it plenty, and I can navigate it. I’ll figure something out.” 

“Yes, this plan was brilliant,” Jon says drily. 

“Oh fuck off.” 

“The mouth on you, Martin! Hardly professional.” 

“Maybe I’ll leave you here, see how you like that.” 

“Martin if you do this...you might become an Avatar. That’s not exactly reversible.” 

“And if I don’t? Peter makes good on his threats.” 

“You could teach me.” 

“I don’t think so. You’re already with the Eye. I doubt you can control The Lonely too.” 

“Can we wait? Just...just give me tonight, to recover.” 

“Of course. Are you...okay?” 

“Am I okay?” 

“Stupid question. I’m sorry.” 

“No more saying sorry. Recently kidnapped man gets to make the rules.” 

“No more sorry. Do you want to rest?” 

“Can I rest here?” 

“Dunno. Never tried.” 

“Martin will you touch me? This place, it’s in my head.” 

“Course. What do you need?” 

“Just hold my hand?” 

“Bit unsanitary.” 

Jon’s face flashes and Martin wants to murder Annabelle Cane a thousand times. He takes Jon’s hand and squeezes.

They can, as it turns out, sleep in The Lonely, though Martin’s dreams are full of faceless people drifting by him and endless void spaces in between. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i am aggressively american in this one but not in a redneck way.

When he wakes, Jon isn’t there. It’s just like every time Peter punishes him, The Lonely suffocating in its intensity. 

“Jon! Jon where are you?”

Peter, managing to lean against the nothingless most of The Lonely like it’s a wall, is bored when he speaks. 

“He’s not here. Elias made me send him back to The Institute. He didn’t say anything about you. I think you’ve been bad, Martin. You haven’t been listening. I thought this would be punishment enough, and maybe without Jon it would be, but I need to make certain you understand. It would be a shame for you to ruin all our plans because of love. On your knees, Martin.” 

“Peter—”

“On. Your. Knees.” 

He drops down in front of Peter dutifully.

“Good boy.” 

It’s routine by now, in the same way you take your keys before leaving the house. If he wants to leave The Lonely, he has to do something for Peter. He’s been told he sucks cock very well, and Peter seems to agree. Martin stumbles into his darkened apartment with cum in his hair and the sun shining through his curtains in tiny, burning rays. 

This, too, has become formulaic. Hot shower, sweater that Jon complimented once, hot tea, heat turned way up like he’s trying to sweat out a fever. The Lonely feels like a sickness he supposed, but one he’s become intimately acquainted with. His first lover was a white blond girl who left when she was done. His first friend wasn’t real. 

His phone rings as he’s trying to drift into sleep. He lets it go to voicemail. 

Martin? I know this is perhaps a bit much but it’s been three days since Lukas pulled me from The Lonely and I’m growing a bit concerned. Give me a call if…give me a call when you get back. I hope you’re alright. Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist for the Magnus Institute.

He calls Jon back over a cup of Earl Grey. He should be getting ready for work. He can’t bring himself to get dressed, do anything. Even this feels like too much. Jon picks up on the second ring. 

“Martin! I’m glad to hear from you. Are you alright?” 

“No. No I’m not alright and I wish you were here and I’m scared Jon. I don’t want to go to work. I don’t want to go anywhere. I wish you were here.” 

“I’ll be right over. You’re still at the same address you registered with the Institute, yes?” 

“Yes but Jon, Jon you can’t. There’s work. It’s seven thirty.” 

“I am glad you’re aware of the time. Many don’t so soon after leaving the Lonely. Google Maps says it’s 11 minutes walking. Would you like me to stay on the phone?” 

“Jon you can’t just come over here to babysit me! What about Tim and Sasha?” 

“We’re all grown adults, I hardly think they, or you, need babysitting. Nonetheless, we have all been taking a vacation since my return from The Lonely. Have you eaten? I could stop for pastries, this cafe has a quite high rating.” 

“If it’s Lucy’s, it’s rubbish. Their pastries are awfully dry. Also, I don’t think spending time with me counts as a vacation.” 

“I’ll invite Tim and Sasha. We’ll play Scrabble, call it a work retreat.” 

“Jon are you out of your mind?” 

“Considering that was my first time in The Lonely, I think I’m doing very well.” 

“I didn’t think. I’m sorry Jon.” 

“Yes that’s a habit of yours.” 

“Sorry.” 

“I should be apologizing. I’m too hard on you. Are you decent? I’m nearly to your flat.”

“Oh. No. D’you mind if I have a shower? I’ll leave the door unlocked. I realize that’s ridiculous but you did sort of invite yourself over.” 

“As I recall, you invited me. Feel free to have a shower though, I’ll make tea.” 

“Right.” 

“Right!”

Martin hangs up and briefly wonders if The Spiral has taken him. Physics do seem to be working, and his shower is fairly mundane. He hears the door open halfway through, and the vague sound of humming. 

“Jon, are you humming The Beatles?” 

“Here Comes The Sun, Martin, do be accurate.” 

“It’s like we’re still at work after all!” 

“I don’t tend to hum at work.” 

Martin can feel the grin on his face as he exits the bathroom. “You do have a very good grumpy boss face.” 

“Yes I’m sure Sasha and Tim will have great fun mocking me when they get here.” 

“Jon! I thought you were kidding.” 

“Do I tend to joke, Martin?” 

“You’ve been doing a lot of things you don’t usually. Has the Stranger taken you?” 

“I’m Jonathan Sims, head of the Magnus Institute. I like being mean to my employees and drinking Martin’s tea.” 

“Honestly, that could be you making fun of yourself or it could be the Stranger.” 

“I...have been going to therapy. Georgie used to and I thought, well she’s smart, follow her lead. Obviously I’ve just had the one appointment but if I’m going to be Jonathan Sims, the therapy guy, might as well commit.” 

“Okayyy. Cool.” 

“Here! Tea.” 

“Jon have you just handed me a cup of unsweetened Earl Grey?” 

“It was already on the counter and I didn’t want to go poking around in your cabinets.” 

“While I appreciate that, this is a nightmare. Taste it and tell me what you think.” 

Jon takes a sip and screws up his face in confusion. “Oh. Yes. That isn’t ideal.” 

“I’ll sweeten it. Are you still hungry? I have…” He opens the fridge. “I have olives and eggs.”

“Order takeaway?” 

“Yes.” 

“Great. I’ll text Sasha and Tim, ask what they want.” 

They end up ordering Chinese for breakfast, much to Martin’s horror, and Sasha brings Jenga, which Jon is awful at, and they end up lying on the floor laughing at him while he drinks egg drop soup morosely. Martin keeps waiting for his alarm to go off, for the whole thing to have been a nightmare turned dream. The minutes keep ticking by, and lunchtime arrives out of nowhere. Tim is complaining about the empty fridge when Sasha looks up from her phone, and says, very calmly, “I think we should kill Elias.” 

“Pardon?” 

“You aren’t deaf Jon. I think we should kill Elias Bouchard, former head of the Magnus Archives. I barely survive an attack from the Stranger, he’s constantly goading Tim into doing something reckless because of his brother—”

“Sasha!” 

“Sorry Tim. The point is, even when we finally got him arrested, it’s for, what, tax evasion? Yeah, sorry if that doesn’t cut it for me. He sends in Peter, and the Institute still has its spooky scary hold over us. Fuck, Jon got kidnapped!! We have to do something.” 

“And you think that something is murder, Sash?” 

“Honestly Tim? I do.” 

“I’m with you, I think, Sasha, but just killing Elias won’t be enough. We’d have to take down the whole Institute, all the Avatars...everything.” 

“That’s the spirit Jon! We’ll be like the Scooby Doo gang!” 

“Ideally more like Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” Tim interjects. 

“So you’re in?” 

“I’m in.”

Sasha turns to Martin. “Martin! Up for a bit of murder?” 

“Despite your horrible American TV references, I am up for murdering our former boss, destroying our workplace, and murdering the creatures that serve eldritch abominations.” 

Tim claps his hands together. “Splendid! Can we go grocery shopping first?”


End file.
